


Creature of the Night

by SurruhQ



Category: Mindless Self Indulgence (Band), My Chemical Romance
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Romance, Slow Burn, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-12
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-03-01 13:18:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18801127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SurruhQ/pseuds/SurruhQ
Summary: Lindsey Ballato is a clerk at a New Jersey convenience store but this ain't no Kevin Smith joint. On a fateful spring night, she encounters a, er, feasting Gerard Way and they strike up a unique relationship. It isn't long before the pair start to feel particularly smitten for one another, only being held back by obstacles they set up themselves.





	1. Oh Bondage, Up Yours!

I hated Belleville. I hated the shitty convenience store I worked at. I hated my classes. There were few things I did not hate during my college years. 

 

One of those was my cassette player and I kept it attached to my hip at all times, even (especially) at work. It was a small (for the time) yellow box-looking thing complete with a label sticker on the side with my name,  _ Lindsey _ , in bold, Sharpied letters. I kept my collection of tapes in my backpack and I would rifle through it at the start of my shift to find just the perfect tape for the night. Misfits, Black Flag, X-ray Specs, Ray Charles, Louis Armstrong... my tastes varied with my moods. 

 

During the night shift, I had a coworker there with me named Sharon. She wasn’t nice but she usually left me alone, at least long enough for me to stock all the shelves and count the registers by myself. Most nights, she only ever spoke to me to let me know she was stepping out for a quick smoke. Of course she wasn’t required to tell me but it was appreciated, especially considering how 11pm was the so-called “witching hour” in Belleville. It was a crime-laden area and our store had been robbed upwards of four times. Luckily, I was only there for one and even then I was in the restroom, appearing only to find Sharon on the phone with the police, her voice rich with boredom as she described yet another burglar. 

 

This night was different than all the others. It was a warm spring evening and Sharon was “manning” the register while I shuffled through the chip aisle, shoving bags of Doritos and Lays into their respective spots and blasting X-ray Specs into my headphones. Sometimes I got tired of being the only one doing any sort of actual labor at work but it was worth it if it meant Sharon would file her nails and smoke her cigarettes and not talk to me about her friend’s goddamn wedding. Sharon motioned toward the door, her usual “bout to go smoke” sign, and I nodded, going back to my chip stocking. 

 

Shit didn’t get weird until I had to flip the tape in my player and realized Sharon hadn’t been back in. I emerged from my spot squatting in the aisle, and began pacing the store. I looked out the windows, in the office, knocked on the bathroom door, all to no avail.  _ I know that bitch didn’t leave me here.  _ I wouldn’t have put it past her just to leave. She didn’t need this job anyway. Just as my blood was beginning to boil at the prospect of her leaving me to my own fate in the middle of the night, I spotted some movement in the dark near the dumpsters. 

 

It wasn’t a bright thing to do but I talked myself into at least poking my head out the door and calling for her. 

 

“Sharon? Are you out here?” 

 

There was some rustling from the dumpsters and I felt a small bit of relief. I trudged over, the whole time thinking  _ Lindsey this is the stupidest fucking thing you’ve ever done _ and entered the corral where we brought the trash. 

 

“Sharon, you good--”

 

I stopped in my tracks as I stumbled upon a young dark-haired man hunched over Sharon’s still body. Startled, I let out a yelp and he turned around. Bright red blood stained his cheeks and around his mouth as he looked up at me. Sharon’s face held a lifeless expression from her place on the ground and her neck and shirt were lathered in her own blood. I could tell she was gone. She wasn’t moving, her chest wasn’t rising with life, and I felt sick. 

 

“I’m calling the police...” I managed to get out while I tipped over. The murderer’s arms caught me before I could fall to the ground and I was arrested with fear. 

 

“Get off of me! Let me go!” I shrieked and, surprisingly, he obeyed. Stumbling back towards the door of the corral, I kept him in my full view. His face was still dripping blood and I tried to look past that fact to get a good description of him for the police I was about to call. Sure, we were used to petty theft and robbers, but not straight up fuckin’  _ serial killers _ . 

 

The man was wearing a black suit-- a suit!-- and a white button-up beneath the jacket. His shoes were a reddish-brown leather boot and a laugh bubbled up in my throat at the idea that this dude  _ dressed up _ to go kill people. He must have thought pretty highly of himself. My eyes drifted back up to his face as he just stood there, head dipped, not meeting my gaze. Unsure if I should have been scared or amused, I chose to be both. 

 

“You know I’m calling the police, right?” 

 

He nodded, head still low. 

 

“And you know you’ll go to prison?”

 

He nodded again, this time his cherry lips twitching into an odd smirk. 

 

“Why aren’t you looking at me?! You just killed my coworker!” 

 

His head snapped up to fix his eyes on mine. They bore into me and, abruptly, my anxiety and fear melted away. It felt just like taking an Ativan, all my muscles letting go of their tension and my mind suddenly drifting into a calm, peaceful state. The outline of the man seemed to glimmer as though he were a mirage in a hot desert and he opened his mouth in a full grin. From his stretched lips I could see all of his teeth, including his canines which were much too long for his face. None of this was coming together for me at that time, I was too stoned. He smiled at me for quite a bit, Sharon’s blood drying and cracking on his chin, and I could feel myself smiling too. I wanted to hug him, wrap my arms around his waist and breathe him in like a long-lost lover. I wanted to give him all the money in the safe. I wanted to do all sorts of things with him that were not all that appropriate to do beside the dumpsters. 

 

“My name is Gerard,” he said finally, in a voice that felt like warm wax dripping down my back, “I have to go. You may call the police but they won’t find me. Don’t worry, though. You and I will meet again.” 

 

With that, he disappeared into the night, leaving me with dead Sharon and one thousand questions. 


	2. Starless Eyes, For Heaven's Sake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lindsey tells her roommates, Chantal and Jimmy, about the events that happened at work. She also happens upon a familiar face...

“Okay, describe him again in great detail,  _ please _ .”

 

I made the mistake of telling my roommates, Jimmy and Chantal, about the dark-haired man and they were enthralled. Chantal was creeped out by the whole thing, but Jimmy wanted to hear everything. It had been at least a week since it happened and it was far more invested in the situation than I was at that point. 

We were at a local pub somewhere downtown, trying to blow off steam. We all took classes at the same college and finals were steadily approaching. Finals were bad enough and here I was dealing with a dead coworker and trying to find the strange man that killed her. 

 

“Ugh,  _ fine Jimmy. _ So, Sharon--”

 

“God rest her soul,” the other two chorused. 

 

“She goes out to have a cigarette. Nothing weird, right? Well after a bit I notice I haven’t seen or heard anything from her so I try to see if I can find her. She’s nowhere in the store and it looked like something was going down around the dumpsters, so I stupidly head over there and there he is, the  _ dark-haired man _ .” 

 

Jimmy watched me tell the story with moony eyes over his beer while Chantal just sipped her wine, trying her best not to look bored. They’d both heard the tale so many times in the last few days but Jimmy was absolutely  _ invested  _ in trying to help me find the man who killed Sharon. 

 

“He’s got blood all over his mouth and he’s wearing an entire suit and he acts so...”

 

Jimmy leaned forward in his seat. He was loving the theatrics I’d adopted.

 

“ _ Shy _ . He was acting shy. He wouldn’t look back up at me for the longest, no matter how much I interrogated him. ‘Fucker! Why’d you kill Sharon?!’ I yelled questions at him until he finally looks back up at me and our eyes meet.”

 

“Aaaaand?” 

 

“And it’s like, I dunno, like I was high or something. I felt totally relaxed as he stared at me, even with all the gore and terror. I didn’t feel anything.”

 

What I left out of the story was how strangely  _ aroused _ I’d become. I was ashamed to admit it, even to myself, but once the man named “Gerard” had vanished I wanted nothing more than to find him. Not to avenge Sharon, but to get to know him. It was a fucked up feeling and I felt a tremendous amount of guilt for even thinking about him in a not-so-negative way. 

 

“And then he disappeared?” Jimmy lit a cigarette and handed the pack to Chantal, who plucked one out and in turn handed the pack to me. I grabbed one and lit it with my flip lighter and glanced between my two housemates.

 

“Yep. Totally vanished.”

 

“What did the cops say?” Chantal piped up. 

 

“Uhh, well...” 

 

The truth was, I didn’t remember calling the cops. I must have, seeing as I was the only one there, but it felt as though they showed up unannounced. They taped off the dumpster area with that familiar yellow ribbon and began their investigation while I tried my best to describe Gerard. At the time that they questioned me, I couldn’t bring up any clear vision of the man. I remembered a suit, but not the color of the shirt. I could tell them about the boots, but I couldn’t remember if they were brown or black. I failed to describe his voice, his mannerisms, and I even forgot his name. 

All these facts came back to me several hours later, while I was snug in bed fighting to sleep, and I didn’t have the energy to phone the cops and tell them everything I remembered. I feared they would think I was lying and try to pin Sharon’s murder on me and I didn’t blame them. Since Gerard just up and disappeared, there was so real suspect other than this fantasy man that I couldn’t even tell them about. It was in my best interest to steer clear of the investigation, let the cops hunt him down while I just focus on school. 

Still, though. I wanted to find Gerard. I knew nothing about him besides his name and appearance and, surprise surprise, he wasn’t listed in the Yellow Pages. 

 

“They said they would look for him but it doesn’t look promising.” I inhaled the sour Newport and mouthed the rim of my beer glass. Chantal narrowed her eyes at me and I felt another sting of guilt. 

 

“Are you hoping they don’t find him?” she asked bluntly and I started.

 

“What?! No! Of course I want them to find him, he’s a fuckin’ murderer!” 

 

Jimmy nodded in agreeance and Chantal simply flicked her cigarette into the ashtray. 

 

“I just think it’s weird how you describe him is all. You talk about him like he’s some cute guy you ran into at the record store, not the creep who killed someone you know. It’s sketchy, Linds.” 

Jimmy gaped at Chantal. I turned my attention to the foam of my beer, hoping that if I got lost counting the bubbles she would leave me alone. This was Chantal, though, and when she knew she was right, she couldn’t let it go. 

 

“I’m not judging you, Linds. Really, I’m not. All I’m saying is if you decide to go find him, be  _ careful _ .” She reached a gentle hand across the table and laid it on mine. “He is dangerous. That’s already been proven. If you find his creep-ass, you need to turn him in. Let him get the justice he deserves and the closure that Sharon and her family need.” 

 

She was right. Of course, she was right. I sighed and raised my glass. 

 

“To Sharon.” 

 

“To Sharon.” the other two echoed, their own glasses in the air. 

 

After a few more rounds, the three of us stepped out onto the sidewalk. A warm May breeze hit us as we made our way up the street to the bus stop. Chantal and Jimmy held hands in front of me while I trailed closely behind. They were both drunk while I was only slightly buzzed. Under a street lamp, Jimmy twirled Chantal and she collapsed into him, laughing sweetly. 

 

“Psst!”

 

I stopped in my tracks. 

 

“Hey! Over here!” 

 

I turned to the alleyway next to me and saw the shadowy silhouette of a man. He stepped out of the darkness and, as soon as some light from the street splashed upon him I recognized him immediately. Chantal and Jimmy had turned back to stare at me now, and I waved them along.

 

“I left my bag, I’ll see you guys at home!”

 

They gave each other worried glances, then Jimmy shrugged and guided Chantal onto the waiting bus. I waited for it to pull away before I trudged over to the alley. 

 

“What the actual fuck--”

 

Gerard clamped a hand over my mouth and guided me further into the alley. I struggled to get him off of me, but he persisted until we were at a bench. After letting me go, he gestured to the seat and I sat down. He sat next to me and pulled out a pack of Marlboro Reds. He offered the pack to me and I graciously accepted. I would need some nicotine for this interaction, I was sure of it. 

 

“It’s good to see you, Lindsey.”

 

“How do you know my name?” 

 

“It was on your name tag. Y’know, the other night?”

 

Of course it was. 

 

“Right. What do you want?” I suddenly wished I was more drunk. 

 

“I figured I had some ‘splainin to do.” he offered jovially. I giggled in spite of myself. 

 

“Yeah, I’ll say.” 

 

“Where do you want me to start?”

 

“Gee, I dunno, why’d you kill Sharon, perhaps?”

 

He gave pause and inhaled sharply. 

 

“I was hoping you wouldn’t start with that.” 

 

“What do you mean? That’s the only reason I even know who you are, asshole.” 

 

I wasn’t as fearful as I probably should have been. Anyone else would have shat themselves if they were sitting right next to the person they watched murder somebody. This was no ordinary situation, though. I could tell there was something  _ off _ about Gerard and I was more curious than I was scared. 

 

“Ugh, fair point,” he tilted his head down to meet my gaze and, once again, I lost all sense of anxiety, “So, you caught me in a bad situation. I was bent over your buddy, sucking the literal life outta her, and you wanna know why. I don’t blame you for that. Anyone would. What I’m going to tell you is something I’ve never told anybody. Anyone that finds out, well, they have a habit of not existing anymore. I won’t do that to you. I should, normally I would, but not to you. Got it so far?”

 

I nodded.

 

“Great. I’m not in the mafia or anything. It’s nothing  _ that  _ absurd, but I have a mutation of sorts. A little fucker of a disease that makes me eat people. Okay, not eat them. That’s not quite the right wording. I eat their blood. Drink their blood. Whatever. It’s something I have to do. Physically. Not something I’m  _ compelled  _ to do. Despite what you think you know about me already, I’m not a sick fuck. This is a literal physical ailment. 

I should also tell you that I can’t go out during daylight. It’s not a personal choice, I will literally turn to dust if even a ray of sunlight touches my skin. This is less of an inconvenience. I never liked the outdoors anyway.” He glanced away for a second. I noticed he was trembling some, a small tremor in his hands as he dragged from his cig, “I’m sure you’re starting to put things together by now.” 

 

He looked to me expectantly and I froze. I knew what he was getting at but I didn’t want to. I would have almost rather him be in the fuckin’ mob than what he was implying. 

 

“I’m a vampire, Lindsey. A spooky, creepy, blood-suckin’ vampire. Whaddya think of that?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter two is done! Please comment your thoughts. If you want, of course. I like this chapter a lot :) 
> 
>  


	3. Like A Secret In Your Throat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gerard and Lindsey take a walk around the block.

Gerard and I explored late night Belleville, beginning with the pair of us strolling through downtown and then various suburbs. It was dark and the streets were nearly silent, leaving us to converse as openly as we pleased. We talked about music, movies, art, comic books and I gave him some insight into my life. He was impressed that I went to art school at NYU. He mentioned he always wanted to go to art school, life (rather, lack thereof) got in the way. 

He told me about his brother Mikey and their friend, Ray. They were both afflicted with the same situation Gerard was and I felt a pang of sympathy for the three men. Imagine, living a life that could only be lived in the dark. Oh, and having to kill people to survive is also pretty fucked.

I wondered aloud about the ethics of sucking people’s blood and Gerard stiffened. 

 

“It’s not a thing we’re proud of, Lindsey.”

 

“Oh, no, I didn’t—“

 

“We got a bit desensitized to the process but it’s still something we wish we didn’t have to do. I’d rather be dead sometimes.”

 

We trudged on in silence for a few moments, then he stopped abruptly. 

 

“Lindsey.” 

 

I turned to him and was startled when his face was much closer to mine than I expected. His eyes were a light hazel, such a human color. 

“Thank you for hearing me out,” he said, “I’ve never been able to talk to anyone so freely about this before.” 

 

My soul was injected with warmth as our eyes lingered on one another. There was something between us, flowing through the few inches of space from my body to his. It was as golden, as sweet, and as viscous as warm honey. Happiness exuded from every pore on my body, enveloping me in a strange bliss that I hadn’t felt since pre-adolescence. Is this what it felt like to have no worries? 

 

“Do you feel that?” He asked, his voice low and husky. I shivered and nodded, “this is a cool vampire trick. I’m glamoring you.” 

 

With that, the warmth chilled to ice and I was furious. 

 

“What is ‘glamoring’?!”

 

“It’s something us vampires do to get our, er, victims to loosen up. I’ve been doing it with you to lessen the blow of all this news. Think about it, you’ve been on a date with a vampire.”

 

I gaped at him incredulously. 

 

“This was a date?!”

 

He laughed and placed a cool palm on my arm. 

 

“If you want it to be, yes.”

 

Behind his head, the stars were glowing brightly and the moon loomed high over us, keeping watch. I sighed and met Gerard’s gaze. 

 

“Are you glamoring me now?” I asked in a quiet voice. He shook his head, saying nothing, only watching me. I smiled to myself and let him gather me in his arms. He was cool to the touch, not freezing, and he smelled like Marlboros and Christmas spices. 

He held me for a good bit of time and, with my ear pressed to his chest, I could hear no heartbeat. This stirred and unsettled me to end but I suppressed this feeling and continued to allow myself to be held by Gerard. Vampire Gerard. Sullen, blood-sucking, creature-of-the-night Gerard. He breathed me in as well (he could breathe?) and he gave a small sigh. 

We’d only known each other for a week (if that). Was it going to eat me? Was he that forward?

A small twinge of fear gripped me and I shuddered. What if Chantal was right? What if Gerard was really dangerous? I mean, I  _ knew  _ he was. He killed people and drank their blood but he did that to survive. It wasn’t something he did for  _ funsies _ . 

As though he were reading my mind (and for all I knew he probably could), Gerard pulled away and peered down at me. While I stared at him and him at me, I was struck with a sense of wistfulness. He had sad eyes. Eyes that had seen some shit. I longed to hear about all of his pain. His tragedies, his triumphs, his traumas... I wanted all of it. Straight from the horse’s mouth. 

“The sun will rise soon.” 

 

“Will it, really?” I asked breathlessly. 

 

“Yes. It’s nearly 6:00.” 

 

“How do you know?” 

 

“I’ve been on this earth long enough. Every hour has an aura.”

 

Before I could ask how long he’d been around  _ exactly _ , he whisked me away to the nearest bus stop. 

 

“I’d see you home, but I need to get back to my own place. Before I crisp up, ya know.” 

 

I nodded. The bus made a slow crawl towards us and I felt a twinge of sadness. 

 

“Gerard?”

 

“Hm?”   
  


“When can I see you again?” 

 

“You’ll see.” he laughed and pressed his lips quietly and quickly to my forehead. I climbed the bus steps and rushed to press my face to the window. It was too late. He’d already gone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one is really short but I am posting chapter four right after to make up for it! Feel free to give some feedback, I'm really enjoying writing this and I'm dying to know what you all think!


	4. I've Lost My Fear Of Falling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lindsey copes with the previous evening doing what she does best: art. Chantal and Jimmy have some questions.

  
  


When my eyes finally opened at 4:32 that afternoon, I thanked Christ that it was Saturday. No class, no exams, no work. Just a full evening ahead of me to lounge around the apartment and pine after Gerard. Jimmy and Chantal had gone out shopping, according to a very sweet note Jimmy left on the fridge (“Gone 2 get sum feckin’ SNAX bro -J & C”), and I had the place to myself. 

 

After flipping channels for what felt like hours (thirty minutes) and callously thumbing through magazine after wretched magazine, I had to face my truth: I was thoroughly restless. My evening with Gerard was replaying over and over in my mind and while I wasn’t displeased with the memory, it left me feeling anxious. I wanted to see him again. That night, in fact, but he left me no way to contact him. It was totally his call where and when we would meet up again and that lack of control left me antsy and only slightly bitter. There were only three hours until sundown and while Belleville wasn’t a huge city, it also wasn’t a small town. There was truly no telling when I would come across Gerard (or where) and it made zero sense for me to even think about going out there to find him. 

 

I resorted to doing what I always did when I was restless-- art. Okay, that sounds cheesy, but it’s the truth. From my room I grabbed a medium-sized block of clay and a chunk of drywall (a previously broken piece that we students used as a platform for our clay projects), and marched back out to the living room. With MTV in the background, I sat on the floor and with gentle vigor, I shaped and molded the clay with my fingers. I paused only to sip a Diet Coke and continued on again. Jimmy and Chantal entered the apartment to find me pawing obsessively at my latest project. 

 

“‘Sup, Linds? Whatcha workin’ on?” Jimmy crab walked around me so as not to disturb my makeshift workstation. 

 

“I dunno yet.” 

 

“O...kay... Well, it looks good whatever it is.” 

 

“Thanks.” 

 

Chantal tiptoed around me as well and I listened to the rustling of shopping bags as they put the groceries away. The noise in the kitchen quieted and the living room darkened with the setting of the sun, leaving only the light from the television flickering on me and my work. Jimmy and Chantal returned to the kitchen some time later to retrieve a quick snack and Chantal paused behind me, watching me work. Her silence could have meant anything-- or nothing-- but once I scooted back from the sculpture and observed it with some distance, I realized what it meant. 

 

Before us stood a two-foot tall man in a cloak. It wasn’t extremely detailed as I still had some work to do on it, but it was still an imposing piece. All that could be seen of the man’s face was his mouth, twisted into an amused smirk. He had his arms outstretched beckoningly, his palms facing upward. I had no interest in unpacking what the hell was going on but Chantal was all about it. 

 

“Oh, my God,” she muttered, “Who is that?” 

 

“I dunno, does it have to be anybody? It’s just a piece I made.” 

 

“Linds, I know you. It has to be somebody. What does it mean?”

 

“I dunno, Chantal. Does it have to mean something? Why can’t art just be art? Why does everything have to have a special meaning?”

 

Jimmy waltzed into the living room and gave a golf clap.

 

“Is that Gerard, Linds?” he asked and I groaned in exasperation.

 

“Jesus Christ, it’s just a sculpture. I made it randomly today because I was bored as fuck, am I not allowed to do that?” 

 

“Of course you are. It just looks like a cool, mysterious guy so I assumed it was your Gerard.” 

 

“He’s not  _ my _ Gerard, Jimmy.” 

 

“I’m just sayin’, I can tell he’s been on your mind.” 

 

I fell silent and focused my eyes on the television. MTV had moved on to infomercials, abandoning all semblance of music and color. Now I was watching women try to sell me diet pills. 

 

“Where did you go last night, Lindsey? We were worried about you.” said Chantal. I chose not to look at her, instead keeping my gaze on the screen. 

 

“I caught up with some friends.” 

 

“Ha! We’re your only friends, Lin-zaaaay.” barked Jimmy jovially. 

 

“Did you happen to meet up with Gerard?” Chantal asked and I suddenly felt very tired. There was no point in lying to my friends. Chantal had a great wit and a deep intuition. If she caught a scent, she would chase it until she found the truth. Jimmy, on the other hand, was a genuine teddy bear and just wanted everyone to be safe and happy. He adored Chantal and had a great amount of care for me and I knew that keeping anything from them would hurt our friendship. 

I gestured to the couch and my friends and I collapsed onto it. Jimmy munched on chips and Chantal sipped a sparkling water while I launched into the not-so-lurid details of my night with Gerard. It shames me to say I was very impressed with how gracefully they received my story. Neither of them interjected or blew up or even laughed. They just sat and quietly digested everything I had to say, waiting until I was finished speaking to offer their opinion. As expected, Chantal went first. 

 

“A vampire? You can’t be serious.” 

 

“It’s not really my business to tell but it seems pretty convincing. Fucking insane, yes, but I’m sure there are stranger things that have happened.” 

 

Chantal believed in energy and the power of the universe. She wasn’t religious, though she respected religion, and she had some new-age tendencies. This was something we shared. Between saging the apartment and charging crystals, we both leaned towards witchiness with great enthusiasm. This is part of what allowed me to so readily believe Gerard when he told me about his affliction. It shocked me that Chantal was not so convinced. 

 

“Lindsey. What is the proof?”

 

“Well, him drinking my coworker’s blood was pretty convincing.”

 

“Sure but who’s to say he isn’t just some psycho?”

 

“He stays out all night. He can sense what time it is without really knowing. He knows how to manipulate my feelings with the purpose of alleviating my anxiety. He fucking  _ drinks blood _ . What other proof would you need?”

 

“It’s fucking insane, Lindsey!”

 

“I know!” 

 

“I think you’re letting yourself be blinded by your attraction to him. Ted Bundy was extremely charismatic and made women feel special before he goddamn murdered them and dumped their bodies somewhere. This dude has warped your fucking mind and not with any  _ superpower _ . He’s a psychopath and you’re going to get hurt.” 

 

As Chantal berated me, an idea (albeit a stupid one) popped up in my head.

 

“Why don’t you just meet him? You two can come with me, we’ll find him, and you can sit down and ask him all your  _ burning _ questions. Maybe then you’ll have less shit to talk.” 

 

As I spoke, I lit a cigarette. Chantal mulled my proposal over, glancing at Jimmy every so often, until she finally agreed. 

 

“Fine. Let’s go find his ass.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone!! This is my very first published work but I've been writing fic for years. I'm new to the game as far as making my stuff public so any constructive criticism is greatly appreciated! I thought up this story during a weird night at work (I work in a hospital, not a convenience store) and thought I would give it a shot. I am also interested in making it into a podfic if anyone would care about that, idk. See you next time!


End file.
